


Annotated Shopping List

by lovetheblazer



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Grocery Shopping, Humor, M/M, Mythbusters - Freeform, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6522847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/pseuds/lovetheblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren marathons MythBusters with Chris and gets a little too inspired. Naturally, it falls to Chris to rein him in. Inspired by <a href="http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/post/142604537820/pastelle-prince-shadetastic-you-can-have">this Tumblr post</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Annotated Shopping List

Chris’s phone starts buzzing on its perch on the desk, startling Brian awake. Brian jerks awake and then glares at him, as if he’s somehow to blame for disturbing Brian’s slumber. Brian’s a little too smart for his own good sometimes, and Chris is just waiting for the day he decides to put his plans for world dominance into action.

Chris has been so wrapped up in the scene he’s writing, however, that he doesn’t want to break focus to answer the phone. He glances at it quickly, rolling his eyes at the goofy contact picture for Darren that pops up on his iPhone screen. One of Darren’s favorite things to do is steal Chris’s phone when he’s otherwise occupied and fill it with his own truly horrific and hammy selfies. Chris usually feigns annoyance when he finds the pictures or Darren with his phone in the middle of an impromptu photo session, but he almost always saves the pictures to the iCloud before he deletes them from his phone. He swears he’s just keeping the photos for their inherent blackmail potential, but the truth is that sometimes when he’s away from home for a long period of time and missing Darren like crazy, he likes to pull them up. Seeing Darren willingly make himself look like a complete idiot for Chris’s benefit never fails to put a smile on his face. What can Chris say? He’s just predictable like that.

Today, Chris decides that Darren can wait but the new book chapter can’t so he screens the call. After all, it’s partially Darren’s fault that Chris is so behind schedule for writing at the moment. Darren had practically _insisted_ on the MythBusters marathon last night much to Chris’s chagrin, but knowing the true way into his heart, Darren plied him with Italian takeout, tiramisu, wine, and cuddles to go along with Jamie and Adam blowing things up on their TV screen. Chris had definitely overindulged in more ways than one and woke up two hours later than usual this morning with a killer hangover to boot, tragically without Darren to fetch him Diet Coke and Advil.

There’s a ding not long after his phone stops ringing that signals a new voicemail, though Chris barely hears it over the clatter of his fingers flying across the keyboard as he writes Mother Goose’s snappy dialogue. He’s rounding out the scene and preparing to start laying out the exposition for the next when his phone buzzes again, this time with a text message alert. Chris is proud of his willpower that he _still_ doesn’t so much as glance at his phone, managing a further three paragraphs of exposition instead. When it buzzes again, both Chris and Brian glare in the phone’s direction in near unison, as if it was sentient and could somehow detect their mutual disdain. Chris chuckles a little as he strokes Brian behind the ears. “That’s my boy,” he whispers to Brian proudly.

Chris is just placing his fingers back on the keyboard of his laptop when his phone buzzes yet again. “Alright! Alright, already geeze,” he grumbles as he clicks the save button on his computer and finally picks up the phone. He’s not surprised to see that the voicemail, along with three texts, are all from Darren. It’s quite possible he has the most impatient boyfriend in the world.

Darren (11:07 am): Hey, hey Chris, whatcha doing? (I ask as if I don’t already know the answer: writing).

Darren (11:07 am): Sooooo... I kinda need a favor. It’ll be a quick one though, I swear!

Darren (11:11 am): C’mon please answer your texts and I’ll love you forever? I mean... I already do but I’ll love you MORE. I might even be bringing you home a little present? ;)

Chris shudders at the last text message. Darren has a tendency to not think his gifts through very well, as sweet and well-meaning as they often are. Chris once made the mistake of mentioning how cute he found ferrets. A week later, he’d borrowed Darren’s iPad for something and noticed an exotic pet shop contact form in the browser history. It turned out that Darren had been in the final stages of purchasing a ferret for Chris by the time he caught wind of it. Thankfully, Chris was able to shut that down before it was too late, though Darren still wound up having to forfeit his deposit. Remembering that and the many other times that Darren’s surprises or gifts had gone astray is the only motivation Chris needs to respond to Darren’s numerous text messages before he gets another crazy idea to buy Chris something he doesn’t need or want.

Chris (11:15 am): Excuse you, some of us have to work for a living, bud.

Darren (11:15 am): Hey, I work!

Chris (11:16 am): Getting paid to go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not count as work, Darren. It barely even counts as “work.”

Darren (11:16 am): Rude. Okay fine, what would you call it if not work, then?

Chris (11:16 am): Really fucking unfair.

Darren (11:16 am): Why unfair?

Chris (11:17 am): Because I didn’t get to come with you.

Darren (11:17 am): Yeah okay, I’m with you on that one. Definite bummer :(

Chris (11:17 am): Well, let’s lighten the mood, then - I believe there was some talk of favors? Also gifts? ;)

Darren (11:18 am): Ah, I see that caught your attention, just like I thought it might muahaha

Darren (11:18 am): You’re so predictable.

Chris (11:18 am): Pot, meet kettle.

Chris (11:18 am): And besides, who DOESN’T like gifts?

Darren (11:19 am): Touche. Alright, so I was going to go grocery shopping, but I left the list at the house like an idiot. Do you mind finding the list and texting me a pic of it real quick?

Chris (11:19 am): *sighs* Okay, where is it?

Darren (11:19 am): I think probably on the kitchen table? That’s where I wrote it anyway and it’s not in my pocket so I’m thinking that’s where it’s must be...

Chris (11:20 am): Give me a sec, I’ll go look.

Darren (11:20 am): You’re the best, babe :)

Chris (11:20 am): Does that make you the worst?

Darren (11:20 am): ...um, no? Why can’t we be tied for the best?

Chris (11:21 am): Says the guy who fed me so much wine that I had one hell of a hangover this morning. And then ABANDONED me to fend for myself without so much as a goodbye.

Darren (11:21 am): Yes, of course - clearly I held your mouth open and poured the wine down your unwilling throat. Seems legit.

Darren (11:21 am): But I am sorry for abandoning you. I had an earlyish meeting and you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you up. Fair enough?

Chris (11:22 am): I guess I’ll allow it. Just this once, though.

Chris stuffs his phone in the pocket of his cozy fleece sweatpants and stands up, stretching his arms overhead and groaning in relief as his back pops. Marathon writing sessions teamed with marathon MythBusters binge watching sessions have apparently done a real number on his spine.

He exits the study and heads for the stairs with Brian reluctantly following behind him. Chris makes his way downstairs and towards the living room. The second he steps into view, Cooper immediately hops down off one of the upholstered chairs ringed around large floor to ceiling windows. Cooper slinks off guiltily, eyes downcast and avoiding Chris. “Yeah, that’s right. You _know_ you’re not supposed to be up there. Don’t you, Coop?” Chris says to him, trying to sound even a little disapproving. “That’s why we bought that hideous faux leather couch, after all. It _certainly_ wasn’t for its appearance. It’s just so we’d have one piece of animal friendly furniture, but of course I had to get a puppy who thinks he’s being a rebel by sneaking up onto the forbidden chairs,” he sighs, shaking his head.

Cooper lays down on the rug next to the couch, placing his head on his paws and giving Chris a sidelong glance before covering his face in what Chris assumes is mostly fake shame for Chris’s benefit. Chris is still chuckling over Cooper’s antics as he makes his way into the kitchen. There’s no grocery list to be found on the kitchen table, but the breakfast bar turns out to be more promising. He picks up the list, hastily scrawled in Darren’s messy script and skims it out of curiosity, seeing if there’s anything he needs to add to it (like another case of Diet Coke, for starters). He winces as he gets to the end of the list, and then he’s immediately digging out his phone to text Darren again.

Chris (11:30 am): Yeah, so that’s definitely not a grocery list.

Darren (11:30 am): Um, okay? What is it, then?

Chris (11:30 am): A death wish.

Darren (11:30 am): I beg to differ.

Chris (11:31 am): Well, that’s nice and all, but I’m not letting you buy even half the stuff on this list.

Darren (11:31 am): Since when do I need to ask your permission before buying groceries? Especially when I’m paying for them with my own debit card.

Chris (11:31 am): Alright, allow me to rephrase. Technically, you can buy everything on this list if you want to be a complete idiot, but you aren’t bringing half this crap into my house.

Chris (11:32 am): Also, you’re dreaming if you think you can find most of this stuff at a grocery store.

Darren (11:32 am): I’m going to the Ralph’s that is right next door to Lowe’s. So yes, it’s going to be a two store errand.

Chris (11:32 am): I see...

Darren (11:33 am): Can I have my list now, please?

Chris (11:33 am): Nope.

Darren (11:33 am): ...nope? Just like that, huh?

Chris (11:33 am): I’m holding your list hostage since clearly you can’t be trusted with it.

Darren (11:34 am): I hate you.

Chris (11:34 am): Pretty sure you’d hate me even more if I gave you the list and let you blow yourself up or chop off several fingers.

Chris (11:34 am): Which is all but an inevitability if you buy everything on this list and go through with your horribly ill advised plans.

Darren (11:35 am): Fine, I promise not to hold you liable for any near death experiences or maiming, financially or otherwise.

Darren (11:35 am): Now can I have my list?

Chris (11:35 am): No.

Darren (11:35 am): Do you want me to sign a waiver first? Get it notarized? What’s it going to take?

Chris (11:36 am): I think I’ve got an idea. Please hold.

Darren (11:36 am): [holding in progress]

Chris grabs a red marker from the can serving as a makeshift pencil holder next to the dry erase board. He sets his phone on the breakfast bar, then plops down on one of the stools to get to work.

He immediately discards the first item on the list, dry ice, as a hard no. He seriously doubts that Lowe’s sells dry ice, but even if they did, taking Darren to the ER with third degree burns just isn’t high on Chris’s to do list.

Chris strikes through the next item on the list for almost the exact same reason. He’s not sure what experiment Darren’s plotting to do with kerosene but it can’t be good. Kerosene is extremely flammable and Darren is easily distracted; they’re hardly a match made in heaven as a result.

The next item appears to belong to the legitimate groceries side of the list. While nondairy creamer seems as benign as they come, after the last two items on the list, Chris is suspicious of Darren’s motivations, both creamer-based and otherwise. However, he considers himself a fairly reasonable guy so rather than striking through it, Chris settles for writing _maybe_ out to the side in red felt-tipped marker.

Beneath nondairy creamer is duct tape. It also falls into the same murky gray area where Chris has no idea what Darren wants to use it for, but he doubts he’ll be able to do any major or lasting damage with it alone. Plus, having duct tape around the house has saved Chris’s ass a few times by allowing him to make temporary repairs, so perhaps it’ll even come in handy? Once again, Chris writes _maybe_ out to the side, just to make sure Darren’s aware knows he’s wary. He’d hate for the lack of a hard no to be seen as tacit approval of whatever harebrained scheme or experiment Darren is plotting.

The next two things Darren has written down are Mentos and Diet Coke. One or the other is perfectly acceptable (and in fact, Diet Coke is a _necessity_ in this household) but Chris is no fool. He’s heard the urban legends, dating all the way back to his middle school days. He doubts that Mentos and Diet Coke together will add up to the same caliber of explosion as say, a bottle rocket; however, even if the level of danger is low, the potential for messiness is still sky high. Chris has spilled his fair share of Diet Coke. He knows just how sticky and difficult to clean up it is, not to mention how easily it stains his carpet, rugs, or furniture. Chris draws a bracket around the two items and scribbles _not at the same time_ out to the side. He’s just about to move onto the next object on the list when a tangentially related thought occurs to him. He draws an arrow to Diet Coke and writes _get at least a case - my stock is rapidly depleting_ as an additional directive to Darren.

Below Diet Coke, Darren has scribbled down PVC pipe. Chris has no idea what Darren would need that for, but he’s certain it’s not intended for anything good or safe. Hard pass. He strikes through the item and writes _no_ out to the side in all caps.

Chris shudders in horror at the next item on the list: cannonballs. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Darren was trying to punk him. He pictures Darren at Lowe’s, checking out at the register with this obscene assortment of things. He’s almost certain that the cashier would assume Darren must be an amateur bomb maker and call the police. The mental image is equal parts horrifying and amusing, so much so that Chris can’t help picking up his phone again, still giggling to himself as he does.

Chris (11:43 am): DO YOU REALIZE THAT IF NOT FOR ME YOU PROBABLY WOULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF ARRESTED TODAY

Darren (11:43 am): Um... how do you figure?

Chris (11:43 am): Dude, this list is practically a flashing neon sign that says, “hello, I’m a bomb-making domestic terrorist.”

Darren (11:44 am): Is that so?

Chris (11:44 am): Yes, it is. I realize I watch more cop shows than you, but STILL that’s no excuse. Use your brain once in a while.

Darren (11:44 am): Why would I bother using my brain when I know you’re here to save me from myself?

Chris (11:45 am): ...because occasionally I won’t be there to save you? The only reason you aren’t in handcuffs right now is because you happened to forget your shopping list at home this morning.

Chris (11:45 am): That feels a little too close for comfort in my opinion and I’m not even the one who’d be going to jail!

Darren (11:45 am): You’d totally bail me out of jail if it came down to it, let’s be real...

Chris (11:46 am): I don’t think you go to regular jail if they suspect you’re building bombs. They probably just throw you into some CIA black ops site that’s little more than a hole in the ground.

Darren (11:46 am): You’ve been watching too much Homeland again, huh?

Chris (11:46 am): Probably.

Darren (11:46 am): Can I have my list yet?

Chris (11:47 am): Not quite. Still working on it.

Darren (11:47 am): Working on it how, exactly?

Chris (11:47 am): Uh... annotating it? Kinda. Idk you’ll see.

Darren (11:47 am): Chris, my grocery list is not a bibliography. It does not need annotating.

Chris (11:48 am): Shh, grown ups are working here.

Chris (11:48 am): (Also, if you want to get pedantic, it’s not really a grocery list either. Anything with cannonballs on it is by definition NOT a grocery list. Unless you are planning to eat the cannonballs?)

Darren (11: 49 am): Chris, you know how it turns me on when you bust out your big...

Darren (11:49 am): Vocabulary.

Chris (11:49 am): There’s more where that came from ;)

Darren (11:49 am): Fuck yeah there is.

Chris (11:50 am): Anyways, back to ignoring you while I work on this list...

Darren (11:50 am): *pouts*

Chris returns to the list, striking through cannonballs. It’s a stupid idea of such epic proportions that simply marking it out doesn’t seem like a strong enough way to express his disapproval. So, Chris adds _definitely no_ out to the side to make sure his disapproval is _thoroughly_ known.

Chris reads the next item on the list repeatedly, because he’s not entirely sure he can believe his eyes. Yet each time he returns to it, the words stay the same: entire cow (pre-slaughtered if possible). He hits the home button on the iPhone screen to light up his phone, confirming that today’s date is indeed April 10th just as he thought and not April 1st. Unless Darren enjoys playing April Fool’s Day pranks over a week late, there’s really no reasonable explanation for what Darren’s written aside from the fact that Chris is dating a lunatic. He shakes his head, giggling and slightly hysterical, as he marks through the item. Chris decides to appeal to Darren’s logical side (though he’s not sure if Darren even _has_ one of those anymore) and writes _we don’t have a big enough freezer_ next to the cow that Darren apparently thinks he can purchase at Lowe’s or Ralph’s.

The next thing listed by Darren is candles. Specifically (or non-specifically, really) Darren has noted that he intends to purchase many, many candles. Chris happens to like candles for the most part, preferably the scented kind, but since candles fall immediately after an entire pre-slaughtered cow on the shopping list, Chris is left wondering if Darren has some sort of bizarre animal sacrifice ritual planned. He figures the odds of that happening are fairly low, but a more pressing concern is whether or not Darren’s definition of many, many candles is the same as his own. Five candles are fine, a dozen candles are still fine, probably, but one hundred plus candles? Not so much. Chris decides to give Darren a lowball number, since conventional wisdom says you should never open a negotiation with a high number. It’s a maxim mostly applied to business transactions, but it probably applies to Darren as well. If you give him an inch, he’ll try to take a mile. As a result, Chris writes _you can have four_ , underlining the word four to further underscore the limit.

Chris moves onto the next item on Darren’s seemingly never-ending list: copper wire. He’s mulling over the possible uses and the inherent danger involved in each when he has an unrelated thought. He hops back up to candles, deciding a bit more direction might be in order. While he likes scented candles, he’d prefer that his home not smell like a crappy mall Bath and Body Works, with its cacophony of scents that may be palatable in isolation but together make for one massive assault on the senses. Chris isn’t so sure he trusts Darren’s judgment on scents... or anything at all, frankly, after today’s ludicrous shopping list. So next to candles, he adds _scented preferably, appropriate scents include: vanilla, cinnamon, freesia, or lavender. DO NOT GO OFF SCRIPT HERE._

Once Chris has that directive sorted, he returns to copper wire. On its own, it seems harmless enough, but Chris knows that typically wire is used to conduct electricity and _that_ seems like a recipe for disaster. He’s not particularly interested in seeing Darren electrocute himself or blow all the fuses in the house in one fail swoop so he strikes through it and writes _no_ out to the side.

Chris shudders at the next item on the list: chainsaw. “You must be out of your goddamn mind,” he mutters under his breath as he marks through the word, pressing so hard with the red marker that he nearly rips the paper. He thinks back to last summer when Darren decided he was going to be the next Gordon Ramsey after watching far too many episodes of Masterchef. It’s so like Darren to jump into every new interest or fleeting passion with both feet, immersing himself in a new hobby for a week or two before his interest naturally starts to wane and he stumbles into a new idea. Darren had even purchased a set of chef grade ceramic knives at what Chris assumed was an exorbitant cost. Chris decided to humor Darren on the hobby, assuming he might even get some decent, free meals out of the arrangement while Darren experimented with new recipes every night. Instead, what Chris got was a bloodied kitchen countertop and an unexpected trip to the ER with Darren. It turns out that those ceramic knives were chef grade for a reason, and that reason was that due to being incredibly sharp, amateurs without the requisite knife skills were liable to cut off a finger with them (or in Darren’s case, a fingertip, though they were thankfully able to sew it back on in the ER). Reflexively wincing at the memory, Chris adds _absolutely not_ beside the word chainsaw. He doesn’t even want to _know_ what body parts Darren would end up inadvertently lopping off if given the chance to handle a chainsaw. It definitely wouldn’t be pretty.

“Seriously?” Chris grumbles as he reads the next item listed: blowtorch. It’s hard to say which Darren could do more damage with, the chainsaw or the blowtorch. After some mental deliberation, he decides that the blowtorch is probably worse because not only could Darren severely burn himself with it, he could also potentially burn Chris’s home to the ground. There’s absolutely no question that the blowtorch belongs on the banned list for that very reason alone, so Chris scratches through it and writes _never_ in all caps out to the side.

Chris sighs in relief as he _finally_ nears the end of the list. Not because what Darren has saved for last is harmless, but simply because there’s an end in sight to Darren’s idiocy. Still, there’s no way in hell Chris is going to agree to let Darren buy series 1-12 of MythBusters like he’s written at the bottom of the list. Chris knows that watching or purchasing more MythBusters will only provide nearly two hundred and fifty episodes worth of inspiration for _more_ bad ideas for Darren; Chris just doesn’t have it in him to repeat this tedious process of finding and annotating Darren’s ridiculous shopping lists week after week. He strikes through the last item on the list, writing _THAT IS THE WORST IDEA_ to make sure his wholehearted disapproval comes through loud and clear.

Chris (12:07 pm): Okay, my torture is finally complete now...

Darren (12:08 pm): Torture? Who’s torturing you?

Chris (12:08 pm): You are, dummy.

Darren (12:08 pm): I’m not even with you right now.

Chris (12:08 pm): So? It’s delayed torture. Torture from afar. Call it what you will, the same basic principles apply. You know what you did wrong, buddy.

Darren (12:09 pm): Who me? With this face? Not very likely.

Along with the text, Darren’s attached an image of him wide eyed and pouting into the camera, the very picture of innocence. Chris isn’t sure if he’s more annoyed or turned on by it. Perhaps it’s a little of both, not that Chris would ever admit to the latter.

Chris (12:09 pm): Like I told you, I’m immune to the puppy dog eyes from years of concentrated exposure. Your superpower holds no sway with me anymore.

Darren (12:10 pm): Well, I’m pretty sure I can wear you down eventually. I can be very... persistent.

Chris (12:10 pm): Annoying. The word you’re looking for is annoying.

Chris (12:10 pm): Or stubborn. I’ll accept either.

Darren (12:10 pm): Right, I’M the stubborn one.

Darren (12:11 pm): But speaking of my persistence, can I have my shopping list back? Preferably in its unaltered form.

Chris (12:11 pm): Yes on the list, no on the edits-free version. Hang on, let me snap a pic and send it to you.

Chris picks up the list, now covered in more red ink than black and centers it on the breakfast bar before taking a quick picture with his phone. He immediately sends it along to Darren, already anticipating his reply. He doubts it’ll be pretty.

Darren (12:13 pm): Is this a joke?

Chris (12:13 pm): No, was your original list a joke?

Darren (12:13 pm): No.

Chris (12:14 pm): Then it appears we are at a stalemate. And for the tie breaker, we go to me because it’s my apartment. So I win. Game over. The end.

Darren (12:14 pm): Chris, you took practically EVERYTHING off the list. All the good stuff, anyway.

Even though the message is sent via text, Chris can practically hear Darren’s whine through the phone and almost see him poking out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

Chris (12:14 pm): I’d say sorry, but I’m really not. It’s for your own good.

Darren (12:15 pm): I beg to differ. My experiments are going to be for the greater good. For humanity, even.

Chris (12:15 pm): Hon, let’s just leave the science experiments to the experts or at least the television hosts who actually have a show and get PAID to do this shit.

Darren (12:15 pm): A good scientist knows how important replication is to the strength of a researcher’s results.

Chris (12:16 pm): Last I checked you were claiming to be some actor/musician/composer hybrid, not a scientist.

Darren (12:16 pm): And without my cannonballs, chainsaw, and blowtorch, I’ll never get the chance to be a real scientist :(

Darren (12:16 pm): I mean for fuck’s sake, you even rejected nondairy creamer. CREAMER, Chris.

Darren (12:17 pm): What awful and dangerous things do you anticipate me doing with creamer?

Chris (12:17 pm): Hey now, I believe I said maybe on that one. And I’m more than willing to change that maybe to a yes if you swear to me that you intend to use it solely for your coffee and not for anything else.

Darren (12:17 pm): ...

Chris (12:17 pm): Yeah, that’s what I thought. What’s it REALLY for, then?

Darren (12:18 pm): Well actually, the powdered form of nondairy creamer is highly flammable, so it’s useful for making a variety of things.

Chris (12:18 pm): Such as?

Darren (12:19 pm): Um... you’re going to hate me if I tell you.

Chris (12:19 pm): Probably. But I’ll also continue to love the fuck out of you, so... Spill it, Criss.

Darren (12:20 pm): I wanted to make... a flamethrower?

Darren (12:20 pm): But just like, a little one. Short range.

Chris (12:20 pm): Oh, well in that case, by all means! Go right ahead with your nondairy creamer powered flamethrower that’s definitely going to kill us all and burn my house to the ground.

Darren (12:21 pm): Don’t you think you’re being just a TAD melodramatic now?

Chris (12:21 pm): Try a realist. A realist who is really attached to having a roof over his head, in theory and in practice.

Darren (12:21 pm): So no experiments for me?

Chris (12:22 pm): I don’t know, it depends on what you can do with Diet Coke, duct tape, and four candles.

Darren (12:22 pm): Definitely not anything dangerous :/

Chris (12:22 pm): Then my work here is done.

Darren (12:22 pm): Spoilsport.

Chris (12:23 pm): I assume that in addition to the ludicrous list of imaginary things to buy, you also have a list of actual food items to buy at the grocery store?

Darren (12:23 pm): Yep, it’s all tucked away here in my mind palace.

Chris (12:24 pm): *snorts* Great, we all know how well that’s liable to work out. Last time you tried to hold onto a short list in your memory, I think you wound up getting about 30% of the things we really needed, plus a whole bunch of weird shit we didn’t.

Darren (12:24 pm): It wasn’t THAT bad.

Chris (12:24 pm): It really was. I think your mind palace might need redecorating. Maybe a spring cleaning? Seems a little too cluttered in there.

Darren (12:25 pm): You shut your mouth. My mind palace is perfect. Exactly as it should be.

Chris (12:25 pm): We’ll see about that, killer.

Darren (12:25 pm): So, you’ll really disown me if I buy any of the forbidden stuff?

Chris (12:25 pm): Yup.

Darren (12:26 pm): Harsh, Chris. That really stings.

Chris (12:26 pm): Not as much as you sinking a chainsaw into your leg or blowing yourself sky high with some cannonballs and a length of copper wire would.

Darren (12:26 pm): But that won’t happen.

Chris (12:16 pm): Shh, but it COULD happen. Never say never.

Chris (12:27 pm): You know, unless you follow my revised shopping list to the letter. If you do, all will be well.

Darren (12:27 pm): Guess I can’t argue with that.

Chris (12:27 pm): Smart boy. Looks like you figured out what was best for you.

Darren (12:28 pm): You mean me letting you constantly boss me around?

Chris (12:28 pm): Yep, that’s just the thing I was referring to.

Darren (12:28 pm): I guess it’s not all that different from our usual way of operating. Plus, you love it.

Chris (12:28 pm): I really, really do.

Darren (12:29 pm): Since I won’t be giving back to humanity by blowing shit up in the garage tonight, my evening has suddenly opened up. What did you have in mind?

Chris (12:29 pm): Hmm, maybe a TV marathon that I get to choose this time? Something that doesn’t inspire you to build bombs or accidentally burn the house down with a blowtorch, preferably.

Darren (12:29 pm): Does Netflix even make shows like that? Seems unlikely.

Chris (12:30 pm): You know what? I believe they do. I just have to have the perseverance to keep on digging until I find our diamond in the rough.

Darren (12:30 pm): My hero <3

Chris looks longingly at his desk chair and the blinking cursor on his laptop screen, both calling out to him. He’s scared if he doesn’t commit the rest of the chapter to the word doc soon, he’s liable to forget half the major plot points.

Chris (12:31 pm): What time are you thinking you’ll be home?

Darren (12:31 pm): Should be done by about 6 pm. I could swing by one of our favorite places and pick up takeout if you don’t feel like going out?

Chris (12:31 pm): Yes please to the food. I’ll keep working on narrowing down our entertainment options in the meantime.

Darren (12:32 pm): Perfect. See you around 6:30.

Darren (12:32 pm): Good luck with your writing <3

Chris (12:32 pm): Good luck with shopping aka only purchasing things from my preapproved list ;)

* * *

Later that night, they reconvene for Thai food and a documentary series binge. This time, Chris chooses The Jinx for them which is about the peculiar life of Robert Durst who’s suspected of multiple homicides yet inexplicably allowed to walk free for years. The documentary really has no business being as suspenseful or fascinating as it is, leaving even Darren’s motormouth glued shut as he’s utterly transfixed by what is playing out onscreen. Chris mentally pats himself on the back for having found something new and potentially less dangerous to occupy Darren’s attention. It’s normally no easy feat.

* * *

 The next morning, Chris wakes up long after Darren (a highly unusual state of affairs in their household) to an empty bed. He slides his glasses onto his face and plods downstairs, still blurry eyed and yawning. He finds Darren huddled over his laptop, typing furiously. Between the stubble and bags under Darren’s eyes, Chris isn’t sure if Darren slept at all. He wanders over to the coffee pot, surprised to discover it’s already half empty, meaning Darren must be three or four cups in already.

“Hey,” Chris finally says, his voice low and hoarse the way it always is first thing in the morning. “Whatcha doing there, buddy?”

“Research,” Darren replies, uncharacteristically terse.

“...about?”

“Did you know how much evidence there is against Robert Durst? Holy shit, Chris, it’s mind-boggling. There’s a petition going around asking investigators to take another look at the Galveston murder he’s suspected of, because even though he’s currently in jail awaiting trial, there’s a good chance with his money he’ll manage to get acquitted yet again. All it takes is the right lawyer, a sympathetic judge, and a little luck at landing the perfect jury and he’ll be home free again,” Darren rambles, his voice passionate and his eyes slightly crazed.

Chris just laughs. He keeps on laughing so hard that he fears he might fall over, having to steady himself with Darren’s shoulder.

“Since when is a potential double or triple homicide so hilarious to you, hmm?” Darren wonders, a bit mystified as he cranes his neck to look up at Chris.

“Murders aren’t funny. It’s just that I know you so well,” Chris manages, still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Oh really now?” Darren quirks up one of his impressive eyebrows.

“Yep. I needed a new obsession for you to take up, one that involved fewer chainsaws and flamethrowers, so I fed you one documentary last night and voila, here we are,” Chris points out, gesturing to Darren’s body.

“I’m not _that_ predictable. Besides, it’s just a hobby.”

“Sure,” Chris placates, his voice fond and bemused. “It’s not like you stayed up all night researching the case or anything.”

“Hey, I got a few hours of sleep,” Darren huffs defensively. “And I wanted to help, is that so wrong?”

Chris bends over and plants a gentle kiss to Darren’s lips. “Definitely not,” he murmurs as he pulls back, grinning broadly. “But do you think you can take a short break from your research to make me waffles? I seem to remember someone being quite proud of himself for picking up the waffle mix at the grocery store last night.”

Darren nods. He downs the rest of his cup of coffee in one large gulp and then stands. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Sweet,” Chris hums as he plops down at the table with a cup of coffee. “Good morning to me.”

Chris surveys the kitchen, noting the distinct lack of fire or life limb-threatening injuries thanks to his previous intervention. He watches Darren retrieve the ingredients for waffles from the fridge and pantry, humming something under his breath while he works. From where Chris is sitting, it’s shaping up to be a very good morning, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to hear what you think of the story if you feel so inclined to share. You'll totally make my day ;)
> 
> [Share Fic on Tumblr](http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/post/142607927690/annotated-shopping-list)


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